


Anatomy of a Gunshot

by hazelmom



Category: NCIS
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 18:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelmom/pseuds/hazelmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team falls apart with a single gunshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anatomy of a Gunshot

Anatomy of a Gunshot

It takes awhile for everything to catch up to real time. Shock is a funny thing. People get suspended in this moment between what just happened and what’s to come. That moment is the last relief a person is allowed before the body acknowledges the bullet tearing through skin and muscle. In this one moment, people maintain that final sense of normalcy; a belief that this will be a day like every other.

That’s how it happened at 10:05 a.m. Friday, February 24th, 2012 when suspect, William Grainger, casually picked a gun up from the passenger seat of his vehicle, turned, and fired. 

Even though NCIS agents are specially trained to be alert at all times in the field, it’s impossible to be prepared for a man like Grainger who carried nothing in his heart but a desire to die. Most law enforcement professionals refer to this as ‘suicide by cop’, but Grainger wasn’t interested in leaving this world on his own.

Perhaps, it would’ve been different if they had done more homework. If McGee had spent the morning backgrounding Grainger before they headed to the apartment complex. They might’ve known that his wife had left him, his house was in foreclosure, and his assets had been frozen. If DiNozzo had made a few phone calls, they would’ve known that Metro PD was investigating him for a sexual assault on a woman in that apartment complex. They would’ve known that he was more than just the guy across the hall from murdered Chief Petty Officer Lila Benton. They would’ve made him the chief suspect.

Life is full of ‘what ifs’. When Gibbs’ team left NCIS that morning, they were just looking for corroboration from other tenants in her complex that her relationship with boyfriend, Master Sargeant Cliff Collins, was a volatile one. He was already at NCIS sitting in interrogation. He’d been there since the night before, and Gibbs had spent hours trying to break him, Collins was a tough son of a bitch. Usually, Gibbs can smell the truth about a suspect, but Collins was a typical meathead. He had a history of violence and no alibi. It seemed like a slam dunk. 

It’s what happens to even the best of teams when they’ve worked too many cases back to back. They get even a whiff of someone like Collins, and they stop being curious. It’s the case that God sent to give them a break, albeit a short one. They can solve it and be home before midnight like normal civil servants. Sometimes, the temptation of such a gift is just too great.

Grainger’s movements were fluid when he turned; so fluid it was hard to even question the gun in his hand. It was as if they had asked him to turn a gun on them and he was just being a good citizen and complying.

Gibbs and David were still in the building when Grainger was performing his dangerous ballet. Later, they would pepper DiNozzo with relentless questions about how Grainger got the drop on them, and Tony would do his best to explain how Grainger gave them no tell about what he was thinking, but it was a situation that had to be seen to be believed.

DiNozzo had the best reaction time of anyone on the team. The Israeli was 2nd and Gibbs was 3rd, due to age. McGee was 4th and while he hated being last, he took comfort in the knowledge that his teammates would be 1st, 2nd, and 3rd on just about any team in the agency. 

Even with a quick draw, Tony was half a second behind Grainger when he fired. McGee had only halfway drawn his weapon from his holster. Luckily, Grainger’s aim was off or something because in that half second, nothing happened. Then Tony sent four shots into Grainger catching him under the ribcage and throwing him against his car door. The man slumped to the ground like a ragdoll.

DiNozzo felt a mixture of emotions boil up in him. Shootings did that to a man, but there was also the issue of McGee. In the time, it took for Tony to drop four rounds on this hump, McGee should’ve gotten in at least two. Doing nothing was unacceptable. It was the difference between living and dying. DiNozzo would be the bad guy now so Gibbs wouldn’t have to. Gibbs was no joke. He’d pull McGee out of the field and leave the whole team in a hell of a spot if he caught wind of this.

“Dammit, McGee! Where the hell was your head at?” He turned on his partner.

McGee wore a puzzled look on his face. He was staring straight ahead and DiNozzo turned his head sharply, thinking that McGee was seeing something he couldn’t. Tony frowned at the empty landscape and looked back at him. “McGee!”

McGee blinked and looked at him. Then Tony noticed that McGee had his right hand over something wet on his chest. He felt something primal in his gut and he waited. Shock did that. He needed that moment to believe what his eyes were actually seeing.

Timothy McGee leaned forward slightly and his legs buckled. He landed hard on his knees, his right hand still holding his chest. DiNozzo’s body had enough intelligence to act when his mind couldn’t. He dropped to the ground and caught Tim before he landed face first on the pavement.

DiNozzo held him tightly. “Talk to me, McGee!”

“I’m shot.” 

“It’s okay, buddy. It’s going to be okay.”

DiNozzo blinked and saw Gibbs and Ziva running toward them in the distance. In a moment of pure instinctual helplessness, he screamed, “Help!”

His back was to Grainger, the scene was unsecured, but he could only kneel on the pavement and hold his best friend upright. 

McGee’s mouth found his ear. “I’m dying. I’m dying, Tony.”

“No! no. no. no. You’re fine, Tim. I promise you. I promise you.” 

It seemed like Gibbs and Ziva were running forever. Tony thought about screaming some more, but clearly, it was scaring McGee. Then he thought about laying Tim on the pavement, but it felt final and he wouldn’t allow anything like that to happen.

The pounding of Gibbs’ shoes filled his ears and he looked up. “He shot Tim.”

Gibbs’ blue eyes were sharp and Tony was grateful. The boss thrived on crisis. He would know exactly what to do. Ziva’s dark eyes were wide and she was breathing too hard. Gibbs pushed her roughly. “Call 911 and go make sure the bastard is dead.”

It would’ve seemed a rude thing to do, but it was exactly what she needed. She planted her cell on her face and moved off to check on Grainger.

Tony and Gibbs stared at one another for a moment and then Gibbs nodded. He got down behind McGee and told Tony to let go. Tony did and McGee slid back into Gibbs’ arms. Gibbs sat on the pavement with McGee’s head in his lap. Green eyes stared up at Gibbs. “Sorry Boss.”

Gibbs shook his head lightly. “That’s rule…number something. No apologies. You didn’t do anything wrong, Tim. I’m going to move your hand. Got to take a look at what happened here.”

McGee’s hand was wet and sticky with blood, and Tony, in his zeal to do something, thought about wiping it off on his sleeve. He knew how fastidious his probie was about hygiene. Gibbs pulled at Tim’s lapels, buttons popped, and his dark shirt opened on his chest. There was an angry red hole on the right side of McGee’s chest. Tony’s eyes widened, but then he caught Tim looking at him and he shook his head. “It doesn’t look like much, Tim. He probably just winged ya’. Seriously. Not a big deal.”

Gibbs caught DiNozzo’s eye for a moment before looking up. “Ziva! Where’s that damn bus?”

“They’re on their way, but their ETA is 20 minutes. It’s been a busy morning.”

He glared up at her. “We have a man down, David! Tell them we need them now!”

She saw McGee’s chest and winced. She nodded and turned back to her phone.

DiNozzo rubbed his face. “Gunshot wound 101. Find something impermeable and press it over the wound. We gotta’ apply pressure.”

Gibbs nodded. “Your jacket is nylon. Take it off.”

Tony wrestled it off and rolled it into a ball. He put it on McGee chest and pushed. Tim raised his head and howled.

“It’s okay, Tim. Steady pressure, Tony. That’s enough.”

McGee turned his head and moaned. Gibbs patted his cheek. “Sorry, Tim. We need to stop the bleeding.”

McGee nodded. 

He started to drift off and Gibbs slapped his face lightly. “You stay awake, Tim. Look at me. You’re still on the clock. You rest when you go home. You hear me?”

McGee struggled to focus. Ziva reappeared again, looking flushed. “They said they are rerouting an ambulance. It should be less than fifteen.”

Gibbs muttered a curse and shook his head. She looked around and then said, “I’m going to call Ducky.”

“Tony.” 

“What do you need, Tim?”

McGee worked to focus his eyes. “I didn’t get off a shot…suck…I really suck at this.”

Tony shook his head. “There was no sign. If he’d aimed at me, I’d be lying there instead of you. He was like a ghost. I didn’t see a gun until he was already pointing it. It’s a one in a million kind of thing. No warning. We both did the best we could.”

McGee seemed to accept this. His breathing had become more labored. Then Tony heard a rattle in his breathing and the fear in his gut became a Tsunami. He’d heard that sound before. It happened when someone’s lungs filled with fluid. After that, people closed their eyes and never opened them again.

Tony looked at Gibbs. “We have to lean him upright. I think he’s bleeding into his lungs.”

Gibbs lifted Tim carefully, and slid under him until McGee’s head was against his chest.

Ziva was back and barking into the phone. “You have to find Ducky! It’s an emergency, Jimmy. We have a man down…It’s McGee! Please!...Okay. Of course. I didn’t think.”

She took the phone away from her ear. “Jimmy wants to know his pulse.”

It took Gibbs a second to remember Palmer’s medical degree. “Fast. It’s over one hundred.”

She nodded. “You hear that, Jimmy?...Yeah, his breathing is getting really heavy and there’s a noise. Tony’s worried that there’s fluid in his lungs…Yes, he has direct pressure on the wound…Are you sure?...Okay. Okay.”

“Jimmy says to take off the pressure bandage.”

“No! You never stop putting pressure on the wound.” 

Ziva didn’t need to put the phone to her ear. Palmer heard the exchange and yelled through the receiver. “Take it off! The weight is making it hard for him to breathe! Bleeding to death is not his biggest concern right now!”

Tony looked at Gibbs who nodded. He pulled the jacket off McGee’s chest. Almost immediately, Tim’s breathing eased but the rattle was still there. 

Ziva reported this to Jimmy and breathed, “What now?”

“You just wait, Ziva.”

The response made Ziva shiver, and she absently hung up on Jimmy while she kneeled beside Tony. She took McGee’s hand and squeezed. “You are doing just fine, my brother. We are all here with you.”

He nodded. “Best team…lucky guy…love you… love all of you…”

Tony’s voice caught. “Come on, Tim. We don’t need that kind of talk right now. You’re going to be fine.”

Tim’s free hand landed on Tony’s shoulder. “…love you…”

Tony closed his eyes and set his mouth. Then he wrapped his hand around McGee’s and held on. McGee’s eyes found Gibbs, but a red bubble appeared out of the corner of his mouth before he could speak. Gibbs cradled his face gently. “Don’t talk anymore. You just breathe. You’re one of my kids. I already know what you’re trying to say.”

The sound of sirens was in the air. Gibbs locked eyes with Ziva. “Call 911. You make sure they know exactly where we are.”

She nodded and ran toward the entrance to the parking lot.

“Tim, don’t close your eyes!” Tony reached over to touch McGee’s face, but Gibbs caught his hand. 

“He’s still breathing, Tony. Just keep talking to him.”

Tony’s chin trembled and he swallowed hard. “Listen up, Probalicious…You’re okay…going to be fine…ah, please!…I’m struggling here, Boss.”

The sirens were shrill now and there were layers of sound as if half of Metro PD was on its way. Gibbs patted McGee’s cheek, leaning over and talking softly. “We’re with you, Tim. We need you to work hard now. Just keep breathing. We can’t let you go. We need you too bad.”

The ambulance rolled into the lot, and Tony looked up at see it following Ziva as she ran toward them as fast as she could. Squad cars pulled up behind, and the air was filled with sound. Things started moving fast then. In seconds they were surrounded by uniforms and voices. A gurney was rolled off the back of the bus followed a young Asian American woman in hospital sweats.

Two EMT’s took McGee from Gibbs and rested him on the gurney. The young woman started barking orders. Gibbs looked confused. One of the EMTs noticed. “This is Dr. Chan. She’s a trauma surgeon. She was doing a ride along to a traffic accident when we got the call. We got rerouted. Figured we’d bring the ER to you.”

The doctor listened to his chest around his wound. Then suddenly she straddled McGee, and called for a needle and a chest tube. She stabbed him with the ferocity of a felon and started drawing out air. Gibbs heard an order to “Load and go!”

With the surgeon still sitting on McGee, the EMTs locked the gurney upright and loaded it onto the bus. Gibbs started to follow and then there was a hand on his chest. “No room. The doc needs to work.”

Gibbs stood and watched as the doors slammed shut, and the ambulance started moving. It took a moment for him to notice that Tony and Ziva were standing beside him. The ambulance turned out of the lot and sirens started blaring.

A police sergeant moved in their line of sight. “Can you give us statements now?”

The sun beat down on DiNozzo’s head as he gave his statement for the 3rd time. He wore his sunglasses despite repeatedly being asked to take them off. His answers had become sharper, more acerbic. Frustration was building between the cop and the agent when a sedan showed up followed by NCIS vehicles. Director Vance got out of the lead car, following by Balboa and his team.

All three agents broke away from their perspective interviews when they saw him coming, but nobody said a word. Vance could be there because it was an agent involved shooting or he could be there to deliver the bad news.

Only Gibbs could move forward and ask. “Do you know anything, Leon?”

Vance shook his head. “Only that they’re working on him in the ER. Dr. Mallard got to the hospital about ten minutes ago.”

“They’re working on him,” DiNozzo mumbled out loud. It wasn’t quite as good as Vance telling them it had all been a bad dream, but it would have to do.”

Vance surveyed the scene. “It looks like this one snuck around and bit you all on the ass.”

In another situation, Gibbs might’ve bristled at that comment, but there wasn’t a better explanation for what had happened.

“Balboa and his people are taking over now. As soon as you bring him up to speed, you’re released from the scene.”

Gibbs thought about puffing up, claiming his people could still work and it was his case, but it was 11:58 a.m. This had happened less than two hours ago, and all of them felt like they had just run twenty hard miles. As much as he hated sitting in a hospital waiting room feeling helpless; that was exactly where they belonged.

When they were ready to leave Vance caught Gibbs by the arm. “Just remember Jethro, it happens like this sometimes. No way to plan for everything. It’s why we pay you the big bucks.”

It was a joke. They should be paid millions for the risks they took every day, but Vance was right. They could diagram this all they wanted. There was no protocol for vetting people for a simple canvass of a crime scene. Even if they hadn’t pegged Collins as the perp, Grainger wouldn’t have been on their radar. It was what the people who hated cops never understood. Law enforcement will forever have to walk into dangerous situations without knowing all the variables. There could always be a Grainger ready for his last stand.

Ducky was waiting for them at the ER when they arrived. McGee was in surgery now as they attempted to control internal bleeding. As expected, Ducky was equal parts doctor, psychologist, and doting mother. Gibbs was grateful that Ducky could provide the emotional grounding that he couldn’t.

Abby was there too, but her manic energy was missing. She was small and quiet, and Gibbs was happy to envelope her in his arms. Abby allowed him to be soft in a way that the others couldn’t. She rested her head on his shoulder all afternoon while DiNozzo paced the hallways and made war on the vending machines. Ziva who had only in recent years allowed herself any kind of emotional process sat quietly away from the others. Sometimes, she chanted or sang Hebrew prayers, and Gibbs was struck by the beauty of her voice.

That afternoon, Gibbs had many visitors. Shannon and Kelly came for a while and reminded him how precious but fleeting life could be. Kate came and talked to him about how it was impossible to be prepared for everything. He got frustrated with her presence as he worried that she meant to take McGee away with her. Then Franks appeared and calmed him some. His old mentor reminded him to appreciate whatever time he was given with the people he loved as there were never any guarantees.

The only one who visited him in corporeal form was Sarah McGee. She came with tears, questions, and a cell phone with which she used to update her parents on an hourly basis. When she finally sat and joined them for their vigil, Abby took over and wrapped her long arms around the youngest McGee.

Late in the afternoon, DiNozzo’s assault on the vending machines escalated, and Gibbs had to pull himself out of his reverie and take control of the situation. DiNozzo was deposited on a couch next to Ziva who unexpectedly reached out and grabbed his hand tightly. They stayed that way until Ducky came early evening with a surgeon in tow.

“Special Agent McGee is in recovery. We’ve stopped the bleeding and repaired the pneumothorax in his lungs. His condition is still critical, but I’m really feeling hopeful.”

Ducky was smiling and they all considered that the biggest indicator of all. Ducky reminded them that McGee was in recovery and no one would be allowed to visit until he was in the ICU. He urged everyone to go home and rest, but he found no takers. Armrests, coats, and shoulders were used as pillows, and the exhausted group settled in for some rest.

It was at 4 a.m. when Gibbs felt someone shake him lightly. His eyes popped open and he found Ducky standing over him. Everyone else was sleeping. DiNozzo’s snoring was in competition with Abby’s. Ducky silently gestured him to follow. Gibbs got up, careful not to disturb Sarah who was resting against his side.

He followed Ducky down the hallway dimmed in the early morning. Ducky pushed open the doors to the ICU, and he nodded at the nurses quietly monitoring critically ill patients. Machines and beeps punctuated the atmosphere, and it seemed to Gibbs when he entered McGee’s room that most of them were hooked up to his young agent.

Gibbs winced. “Why’s he on a respirator, Duck?”

“His body is tired, Jethro, particularly his lungs. He just needs the support for a day or two.”

“He’s going to be okay though, right?”

Ducky sighed. “He’s got a lot of work to do. You won’t see him in the office for at least a couple of months. It’s going to take a lot of work in rehab to get those lungs into shape again. He’s going to need a lot of support. You know, statistically only 37% of all agents who are critically injured in the field, ever return to active duty.”

Gibbs nodded. “It’ll be his choice, of course, but McGee has never been afraid of hard work. He’ll do the rehab and then he’ll be back. I know he will. He loves this work every bit as much as I do.”

McGee moaned and his head turned. Ducky nodded. “I think he’s going to wake up soon, and I figure yours would be the most reassuring face for him when he does.”

Gibbs grunted. “Not sure about that, but I’m glad you thought of me.”

“Just remember he’ll be pretty confused when he wakes. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll think I’ll rest my eyes somewhere for a little while.”

Gibbs sat down next to the bed and waited. At some point, his eyes closed and his head found purchase on the mattress. He woke with a start, blinking wildly, and noticed that the wall clock said 5:15. He rubbed his face and looked down to find two worried green eyes staring at him. He smiled, “McGee, it’s good to see you.”

The worried eyes took in the room and the hitch in his breathing told Gibbs that Tim was trying to puzzle through what happened.

Gibbs took his head. “Do you remember being in the parking lot when Grainger shot you?”

McGee’s eyes widened.

“It’s okay, Tim. Tony put him down like he deserved. You got a hole in your chest, but you had some surgery, and you’re doing just fine now. The docs are feeling real good about it.”

McGee tried to move but grunted in pain as his body protested.

Gibbs put his hand on McGee. “You just relax. You don’t need to go anywhere.”

McGee settled back in and watched his boss.

Still holding McGee’s arm, Gibbs leaned over. “Tim, I want you to know how proud I am of you. You handled yourself like a pro out there. You didn’t panic. It got scary for a bit, but I asked you to keep fighting and you did. And I don’t want you to worry about anything. You’re going to get better, and then you’re going to come back and we’ll be a team again.”

McGee relaxed and closed his eyes.

Gibbs smiled. “You just rest. Pretty soon, the circus is going to descend on you. DiNozzo is going to want to be in here annoying you in yet unimagined ways. He’s chomping at the bit to see you. By the time this thing is over, I predict he’s going to owe the hospital a snack machine. Ziva is out in the waiting room sleeping. You should’ve seen her today. I couldn’t have asked for a better soldier. I think she was more composed than any of us. Abby is here, of course. She can’t wait to get in here and squeeze the stuffing out of you. Don’t worry. I’ll supervise. Ducky is the rock of Gibralter. I don’t know what we’d do without him. And wait until I tell you about Palmer. I bet you $50 Tony isn’t going to call him Autopsy Gremlin ever again. Sarah is here, but don’t worry, she’s doing great. She’s holding it together like a true McGee. I figure your dad and about twenty of his closest aides will be invading in the next few hours. Let me know if you need me to run interference. Oh, and the great Penelope Langston is flying in from wherever she was vacationing. Ducky mentioned that with a bit of a glint in his eye.”

Gibbs stopped when he saw that McGee was deep in sleep again. He patted McGee’s arm as he looked out the window at the rising sun. He closed his eyes and thanked God for one more day with the people he loved.

The End


End file.
